


Cuddle Up with Purr-fection

by x_Lazart_x



Series: Kamafuta CollegeAU [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cat!Futakuchi, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Futakuchi can't talk about feelings, M/M, No Sex, Pet Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:22:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20512949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_Lazart_x/pseuds/x_Lazart_x
Summary: Futakuchi struggles to ask for the comfort he needs after a bad day. Luckily, when he dons his collar, all his worries drop away and he can trust in Kamasaki to sooth him through the hurt.





	Cuddle Up with Purr-fection

**Author's Note:**

> fyi the perfection is Kamasaki, in case anyone was unsure.

Getting up, Futakuchi lifted his tea cup, moving into the kitchen to deposit it in the sink before returning to his seat. The cushion had barely sank beneath his weight before he was back up, straightening the picture frames that sat along the window sill. Then he decided he was as well cleaning the cup rather than just leaving it sitting, so he focused on that task, giving the cup a better scrub than it had received since he’d bought it years ago. Focusing on each new task he could think of to save from thinking, he couldn’t help but to glance at the clock continually. Kamasaki was usually home by now. 

In the year since they’d started living together, their schedules rarely deviated. School and work kept them in a fairly tight routine and they became good at giving each other a heads up if something out of the ordinary popped up. Well he hadn’t received any such warning and it was an hour past when his boyfriend would usually be home. 

Generally this wouldn’t have irritated him but his day had been horrible. To the point that anxiety was crawling under his skin and refused to let his mind slow down for even a second, to forget even one agonizing detail of the day. The last three hours he’d paced the apartment, unable to stop. Every surface was clean. Every stray paper was placed away neatly. The only thing lying out was his collar, that sat square in the middle of the coffee table, in anticipation of Kamasaki getting there. He refused to look in its direction, to admit that he needed this and the waiting was torture. 

Finally, the tell tale drag of a key in the lock let him know that his boyfriend was home. A greeting was called out and he went to meet him at the door, something he rarely bothered to do. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, Kamasaki froze, face scrunching up as his eyes raked over Futakuchi’s face. He wasn’t sure what his boyfriend found there, but he obviously didn’t like it if the way his expression darkened further was anything to go by. 

“How was class?” Futakuchi asked, forcing his tone to stay light. “Struggling so much you had to stay after for extra tutoring?” There was no bite to the words and they fell flat in the space between them, despite his best efforts. 

“It was fine,” Kamasaki brushed the question off dismissively, kicking out his shoes to advance further into the apartment, stopping right in front of him but not touching. “How was your day?” A bitter laugh slipped out before he could prevent it and he felt a lump forming in his throat. He was so bad at this.

Words came easily to him, they always had. When he was teasing, and joking, cajoling people out of their comfort zones. All of it he could do without a second thought. Actually sharing things that mattered though, talking about his emotions and feelings, the chaos that was swirling nameless inside of him, that he couldn’t do. The words were never there. He didn’t know how to ask for what he needed in moments like these, couldn’t bring himself to be vulnerable when he already felt like a raw nerve. Usually he covered it, with more jokes or deflection, but the more he was with Kamasaki the more he wanted to share, he just didn’t know how. Or at least, he hadn’t. 

Walking back into the living room, he knew Kamasaki was following at his back, knew he’d spotted the collar sitting on the table by the understanding hum he let out and the gentle touch that swept across the back of his neck. Already he felt mildly better. 

“Let me just put my stuff away,” Kamasaki spoke quietly, waiting for his nod to signal that he’d heard, before walking away. 

“I’ll put on the kettle.” It would give him something to do with his hands at least. He went through the motions, though his mind was far away, hands automatically making the tea exactly how Kamasaki liked it. Depositing it on the coffee table, he sank onto the floor beside it, releasing a slow breath. Idley he toyed with the bright pink collar. They’d picked the color out as a joke and that was usually enough to at least lift Futakuchi’s spirits a little, today was the exception. 

Heavy footsteps sounded on the landing and he perked up as Kamasaki came back, barefoot and wearing nothing but a loose pair of pyjama bottoms. Even as filled with turmoil as his mind was right not, it took a second to appreciate the picture his boyfriend made with his shirt off. 

More than that though, skin to skin contact helped him calm down, something they’d learned when they were first trying out the pet play thing. He just added it to the long list of things he occasionally craved but didn’t know how to ask for (at least in a non sex related atmosphere). Kamasaki had gotten really good at sensing when he needed it but his boyfriend wasn’t psychic and he didn’t want to leave all the burden of this on him. It wasn’t fair. What Futakuchi had discovered, through their sexual exploration, was that when he had the collar on he didn’t have the inhibitions he usually did. Sure he didn’t vocalize what he wanted but he could just take it, show Kamasaki that he wanted to be loved on with physical affection. 

“We talk about it tonight,” Kamasaki stated, rounding the couch to sink into the seat closest to him. Of course, Kamasaki wasn’t satisfied with him bottling everything up and using this as a way to escape from having to talk about what was going on. Imagine that. Kamasaki being the one who wanted to talk things through. Thus they’d come up with a compromise. 

“It might be tomorrow morning,” he admitted, which was slightly difficult, even to himself. Their deal was that immediately after they played, or after some time had passed if he needed it, they would sit down and talk about what had happened. Usually by that point Futakuchi was relaxed enough that even though the words didn’t always come out in the right order or barely made sense at times, he still managed to get them out. And Kamasaki sat through the whole thing. Unendingly patience, attention never wavering. Something he would never have guessed at even a year or two earlier. 

“Okay,” the soft agreement came easily enough and Futakuchi relaxed another jot. Kamasaki, stretched out his hand, cat ears and tail dangling from his fist. He’d gone with the belt tail, rather than the plug. Torn between relief and disappointment, over the fact it meant he wasn’t going to get fucked tonight, he finally settled on acceptance. No amount of arguing would make Kamasaki change his mind and a small corner of his mind agreed this was probably for the best. 

Tilting his head forward, he let Kamasaki slide the ears into place, pushing the clips into his hair to ensure they didn’t slip off. It also had the added bonus of anytime his boyfriend played with the ears, he would get little tugs against his scalp, sending shivers running down his spine. Once those were attached he was helped to his feet, before strong arms were encircling him. Kamasaki just held him there for a minute before securing the belt around his waist, making sure it was tight enough to not move around, but still comfortable. 

The last part of the routine was the collar. Gentle hands tilted his head up and a lump formed in his throat at how carefully Kamasaki was handling him. He could go from throwing him into walls to fuck him, to touching him as if he was made of glass that could crack at any second. Get you a man who can do both. Some of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because fingertips ghosted along his cheek before the collar was strapped on. It was snug, but not tight, and as soon as it clicked into place Futakuchi felt as if a weight had lifted. 

They didn’t have any hard and fast rules when they were playing. Futakuchi could talk or not, whatever he wanted. He could provoke and taunt Kamasaki, knocking stuff off surfaces until Kamasaki grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and fucked him over said surface. Sometimes, after a particularly hard practice, Kamasaki would give him a bath, letting the hot water soak into his muscles. On more than one occasion Futakuchi had given him a tongue bath, teasing him for hours as he ran his tongue over every inch of his body. 

Then there were days like today. With no effort at all Kamasaki scooped him up, moving the few steps it took to get to the couch. It should have felt ridiculous. It was literally three steps away. Yet as he curled up in Kamasaki’s lap, cheek pressed tightly against his chest, he couldn’t help but be grateful. 

A hand stroked down the curve of his spine in a firm, rhythmic pattern. The pressure had him arching slightly, head rubbing against the underside of Kamasaki’s chin as he let out a deep sigh. Time became irrelevant, everything melted away until the only thing left was Kamasaki’s warm presence below him and the hand, pushing every last ounce of tension out of him. 

It wasn’t long until his head was completely empty and he was floating in a haze. He’d migrated to lying on the couch, his head in Kamasaki’s lap. His boyfriend alternated between head scratches and shoulder massages. All thoughts of his day were gone: the project he had to start over for the fourth time didn’t exist, his work cutting hours wasn’t an issue, the fact that someone had knocked his laptop off the table and broke it was irrelevant. 

After awhile he slowly started to float back to the surface of awareness, pulled by the lull of Kamasaki’s voice, soft and a little rough around the edges, as if he’d been talking this whole time. It was mostly nonsense words, short strings of praise, little excerpts detailing his day. Now that he was aware of them, Futakuchi clung to those words, letting them wrap around him like a blanket. Kamasaki must have realized that he was back in the present moment because he gave a smile, one full of such tenderness, that if he wasn’t wearing his collar he would be making a joke reflexively out of embarrassment. As it was, he just got to enjoy it. Take it in and let it sooth away his hurt from the day. In this precise moment, that smile could fix anything. 

Darkness crept into the corners of the room, advancing in until he could barely make out Kamasaki’s face from the light coming through the curtains. Yet he made no indication that he was going to move. If need be Kamasaki would stay there with him all night if he needed it. The good thing was, he didn’t. 

Stretching slowly, cataloging all the muscles that had turned to mush, he reached out to scoop up Kamasaki’s hands, bringing them to his neck, waiting patiently as the collar was removed. That done he removed the tail and ears himself, laying them out on the table beside the untouched cup of tea from earlier. Leaning over, his brushed his lips against Kamasaki’s, just the hint of pressure. 

“Take me to bed,” he requested. The words were barely out before he was being guided towards their bedroom. Maybe Kamasaki would hold him all night, maybe they’d make love, slow and sweet. It didn’t really matter. Because they were there together and Futakuchi knew that to his very core. 

Whether it took him five minutes or five months to find the words he needed, Kamasaki would be waiting for him, ready to take them in. And he would do the same, when it was Kamasaki who needed it. For as long as he would have him. 

But for now he tasted the words that he never had any problem saying, rolled them around in his mind till the sweetness of them seeped into his very being. The words that meant everything, that would fill in the empty spaces until he was better able to. A simple phrase that was infinite in its meaning and yet was never enough. Words he knew would always be returned, by speech or action or look. Infinite. Timeless. Unending. 

“I love you, Yasushi.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Ya know... I don't even know what to say anymore. This is out of control. I have like 3 more ideas buzzing around in the back of my head. Please make it stop T.T I have other things to write.... Bokuto's bday is coming up. let me rest
> 
> Nevertheless
> 
> I love it when people come talk to me or send prompts my way , so: 
> 
> [my tumblr! ](http://x-lazart-x.tumblr.com/) and [my twitter! ](https://twitter.com/x_Lazart_x)


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